


Body Shop

by aliciameade



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mechanics, F/F, Inspired by Music, Lust at First Sight, Outdoor Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:27:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22340281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliciameade/pseuds/aliciameade
Summary: Beca's car breaks down on the freeway. Luckily, a local mechanic can give her a ride. The Bellas don't exist. AU.Inspired by Madonna's song, "Body Shop."
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Comments: 10
Kudos: 250





	Body Shop

**Author's Note:**

> Written a year or so ago; breaking it out of my collection as a standalone. :)

* * *

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit. SHIT!”

Beca knew better. She really did. But she really didn’t have time to take her car to the shop that morning when she started it and the oil light came on.

Sure, it was overdue for an oil change, but only by a couple hundred miles, and the light had never, ever come on before.

She had places to be - specifically, she needed to get to Los Angeles by Monday morning and it was a solid 15-hour drive from Portland, and maybe she should have left Sunday morning to give herself time for something like a flat tire or to, like, sleep, but that made too much sense. Her very solid, smart plan was to drive 15 hours straight through, shower at her new place and change into the clothes she’d packed in a grocery bag, go to work, and deal with unpacking her life from her car after work.

She’s paying for her lack of common sense now and she keeps cursing as she eases her car off the freeway to the shoulder as acrid-smelling smoke billows through the vents while the gauges on the dash scream at her and she gets out and walks several feet away from it, pretending she’s not seeing smoke coming from under the hood, too. She’s not completely sure where she is but she hasn’t even made it to Sacramento. At least her car died near a mile-marker post so she can tell whomever she’s about to call how to find her.

It takes a few minutes to get Google Maps to work - cell service is weak, which feels fitting for what is now a comedy of errors - but she finally finds a list of auto repair businesses and calls the nearest one.

_“Beale Auto Body, how can I help you?”_

“Yeah, hey, hi. My car broke down? I think it overheated or something. Can you send someone?”

_“Do you know what broke down?”_

Beca closes her eyes and breathes. Obviously, this girl working at the front desk at the shop means well, but even if she knew what was wrong, what could she do about it now?

“My oil light came on and it overheated and it’s smoking.”

_“Sounds like the oil pump. Okay, don’t open the hood or try to restart it. Where are you?”_

“I’m pulled over on Interstate 5, southbound. Mile-marker 690.”

_“Got it. We’ll send a tow. Probably be 30 minutes. Make sure your hazard lights are on and don’t wait in the car.”_

The smell is burned in her sinuses and she has zero desire to re-enter it until it’s aired out. “Okay.”

_“I just need your name and the make and model.”_

“Beca Mitchell. Chevy Cruze. Silver.”

_“Awes. Someone will be there soon, okay_ ? _”_

Beca wrinkles her nose. “Yeah. Awes. Thanks. Bye.”

She spends the next 45 minutes half-sitting on a rock, sweating in the sun, debating whether or not she should email her new boss and explain that she might not make it in for her first day at her new job. There’s still a possibility she can make it, depending on how long it takes for the tow truck to _fucking get here already_ and how long the repair takes and how much sleep she can forego tonight and she makes up her mind to not send the email unless she _knows_ she’ll be late.

Beca shoves her phone in her pocket to save its battery and is about to get annoyed that the tow truck still hasn’t shown up when she sees it a few hundred yards away rolling along the shoulder until it stops behind her car.

The truck’s passenger side window rolls down and she sees gray coveralls and a dirty blue and gray trucker cap and mirrored aviators and a bright white smile leaning out the window to look her direction. “Beca Mitchell?”

“Uh yeah. Yes,” she says. She repeats herself to be heard over the 18-wheeler that roars past in the middle of her reply. She waves awkwardly and makes her way to the truck.

“Sorry we took so long,” the woman says with a bigger smile. “Charlie insisted on stopping for burgers on the way.” She jerks her thumb at the man behind the wheel holding a messy looking hamburger in a wrapper who acknowledges her with a lifting of his snack.

“It’s fine.” Beca thinks that it’s actually not fine, that someone’s car breaking down on the Interstate isn’t really something one should undervalue in comparison to, say, wanting a burger, especially when the owner’s new career, which hasn’t even started yet, is on the line. “It’s cool,” she says instead of what she thinks.

The door pops open and for some reason, it startles Beca and makes her jump back.

“Sorry,” the woman says as she climbs out of the cab of the vehicle. “Just want to take a look in case you only need your radiator filled. But it definitely sounds like the oil pump based on what you told me happened.”

Beca follows the woman in her coveralls and cap and work boots and the rag that’s hanging out of her right rear pocket and the gloves that are hanging out of the left until they’re standing in front of her car.

“You should probably stand over there,” she gestures past Beca. “Things can explode if they’re still hot and get hit with the cooler air. But can you pop the hood for me first?”

Beca backtracks and unlocks her car to pull the lever and then moves to wait away from her car as instructed. She watches the woman lift the hood and prop it open and that’s all she sees for a few minutes until the hood falls back into place with a slam.

“Well, your fluids are all fine. Oil’s within the recommended level.” She uses the rag from her pocket to wipe her hands and then stuffs it back into place as she makes her way over to Beca. The embroidered patch on the left side of her chest reads _Chloe_. “So it’s probably the pump.”

“O...kay?” Beca doesn’t like that she feels like a stereotypical clueless woman when it comes to cars, but all she’s ever done is drive them. She doesn’t have to know how they work.

“If the pump goes out, it can’t move the oil through the engine to keep it properly lubricated. You might have burned up your engine.” The woman takes off her cap to scratch her forehead and Beca’s about knocked off her feet at the vibrancy of the red hair that’s revealed. “How long did you drive on it?”

“I-I, um, I pulled over as soon as I smelled the smoke. But the light was on when left Portland this morning,” she adds guiltily.

She knows she made a big mistake by the grimace that passes over the mechanic’s face. “Well. We’ll know more once we get it in the shop. Hey, Charlie!” she calls out. “We’re gonna have to take ‘er in. Swing it around and let’s get it rolling.”

Beca can’t hear whatever reply is offered but the flatbed tow truck makes its way back onto the freeway and off again until it’s backing up to Beca’s vehicle. Then Charlie’s hopping out and he and Chloe work with what Beca thinks is impressive choreography to get her little car up onto the bed of the truck. She keeps her distance and stays out of the way. When it looks like they’re almost finished, she makes her way closer, hoping for more information on what happens next.

“Hop in,” Chloe says with a nod toward the truck before climbing back through the passenger door.

Beca hesitates and for a second, every horror movie scenario flashes through her mind and she considers that maybe her call was intercepted by a pair of serial killers who like to pick up their unsuspecting victims on the side of the road, but then the woman smiles down at her from the tall cab and invites her in again. Beca can’t think of a single serial killer in history that looks like this woman and figures she’s probably safe.

“I’m Chloe, by the way,” the woman says as she shifts further to the center of the seat to make room for Beca. “And this is my brother, Charlie.”

“Beca. Hi,” Beca says as she reaches to shake Charlie’s hand but he holds his very, very dirty hands up and laughs and says she probably doesn’t want him to shake his hand.

“Mine aren’t much better,” Chloe says when Beca tries for her, though Beca grasps it anyway because Chloe at least offers it.

Beca moves on to fight with the difficult seatbelt until Chloe helps her ease it down and into place. “Thanks for coming out,” she says when the humor of the struggle passes and they’re a few miles down the road.

Chloe hums. “No one’s thanked me for coming out in years.”

Beca turns in surprise and thinks she sees Chloe wink at her, but it’s hard to tell behind the sunglasses. Her smile seems pretty telling, though, as she leans forward to fiddle with the radio stations until she stops on “Sweet Child O’ Mine.”

Beca thinks she might set the world record for falling in love with someone.

“Are you hungry? I figured you probably would be since it’s past lunchtime and you’ve been waiting a while. We got you a burger.” Chloe passes the paper fast food bag to Beca and the smell of grilled meat and French fries makes her mouth water. “Or if you don’t do red meat, you can have my chicken sandwich. Or if you don’t do meat, I guess you can have the fries. But if you’re low-carb, then -”

“The burger’s great,” Beca interrupts and she pulls the sandwich out of the bag. “Thanks. Again. Remind me to tip you guys when this is all over.”

Chloe shakes her head and talks around the French fry she just bit in half. “No tips. At Beale Auto Body, we treat you like our brother.”

Beca frowns. “That’s your slogan?”

Chloe shrugs.

“Dude, that’s...a _terrible_ slogan. Unless you came up with it, then, uh, no offense.”

Chloe’s laugh fills the cabin of the truck and Beca thinks its sound fills her with the same joy that hearing jingle bells does. “None taken. Our grandpa came up with it. It’s a family business. But we do live by it. Without our customers,” Chloe nudges Beca with her elbow, “we wouldn’t have a business. So we make sure to treat you well. So many other shops are rude and aggressive, especially toward women.”

“They are?”

Chloe turns her head to look right at Beca and Beca feels like she wants to melt into the door her body’s pressing into. “I’m guessing your dad takes care of your car for you?”

She manages to nod. “Well, not anymore. And I’m off to a great start, clearly.”

Chloe smiles at that and finally takes off her sunglasses and tosses them onto the dusty, messy dash of the truck.

Beca hears the sonic boom of her record-setting speed.

She’s never in her life seen someone as beautiful as this woman.

“That’s okay.” Chloe pats Beca’s knee. “We’ll get it fixed up and I’ll show you a few basics before you get back on the road.”

Beca’s answering smile feels awkward and weird and she hopes it doesn’t look like it feels. “Great.”

* * *

They aren’t even in a city. Or town, really. She can see a gas station in the distance and the fast-food joint Beca assumes to be the home of the burger she ate on the drive, but nothing else. They exited the Interstate a few miles after they began driving and she pretty legitimately has no idea where she is right now. She really could be in the middle of a horror movie; all that’s missing is the creepy all-knowing old man who could have warned her not to take that road. She checked her phone on the way and sure as shit, she had no service.

She tries not to think about that, and instead thinks about the gorgeous redhead mechanic about to fix her car.

Beale Auto Body looks like it’s been pulled out of a set of classic Americana postcards. Faded metal siding frames the three garage bay doors. Dozens of used tires are stacked into columns between the doors as though placed there for decoration. There’s a neon sign high on a post with the name of the family business, but most of the letters aren’t lit up.

She can see that there’s one car up on a lift, leaving the other two open, and Beca’s relieved she won’t have to wait for other work to be completed for them to take a look at her car.

“You can wait inside if you want,” Chloe says and it makes Beca realize she needs to get out of the truck to let Chloe out. “Help yourself to whatever’s left - coffee, donuts. I’ll come find you when we figure out the problem.”

“Okay, cool, yeah,” Beca says as she climbs down. It’s higher than she’s prepared for and her feet hit the ground hard. She hears Chloe giggle and tell her to be careful but she’s too embarrassed to turn around and acknowledge it so instead she crosses the oil-stained concrete toward the door that has a reversible OPEN sign hanging in its window.

A bell dings when she enters but no one shows up to greet her in the tiny room that has a few chairs, a noisy refrigerator, and an ancient television showing “The Price Is Right.” It’s on mute, though, and instead, classic rock playing in the garage is filtering in. She can see two other guys through the wide window in the room. They’re working on the car that’s up. She watches them for a minute but then notices the tow truck is moving, pulling forward and then turning and reversing toward an open bay.

She notices it’s Charlie on the ground walking along the truck undoing tie-downs as it moves and she strains her neck to see Chloe - beautiful, thoughtful, sweet, sexy Chloe - at the wheel of that massive vehicle backing it up like a fucking pro. She finally catches sight of her when the truck’s close enough and Chloe’s not even looking where she’s going. She is, but she’s doing it all by looking in her mirrors and not craning her head out the window and something about that is even hotter.

“Oh, my God, keep it in your pants,” she says to herself when she registers her own behavior. She spins away and busies herself with pouring a cup of coffee and grabbing a powdered donut from the box before taking a seat.

She watches her car - not the people moving it - roll off the truck and into place to be hoisted into the air. She watches her car - not the person doing it - be tinkered with. The oil gets drained. Different colored hoses are run toward it to do something. It gets hooked up to a machine like a person on life support. She can see the output on a computer screen but it’s too far away to read, not that she could make sense of it even if she could.

She watches Chloe flip her cap backward and put on a pair of clear plastic safety glasses and reach above her head with a wrench. She watches Chloe work, and stop, and take off her cap to wipe her brow. Beca can see even from her seat that doing so left a streak of grime across her forehead, but Chloe doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe she doesn’t care, and just puts her cap back on (still backward).

And then she does something Beca finds really, really interesting.

She sets down her wrench and unzips her blue coveralls and shrugs her arms out of the sleeves to leave the top half of it hanging at her waist and the top half of her wearing only a white tank top.

Beca inhales so hard she chokes on the powdered sugar of her donut and coughs for a solid minute.

“Fuck,” she wheezes when she can breathe again. She’s not sure if it’s because she can breathe or because she’s watching Chloe with her cap and her wrench and her so, so very toned arms flexing and working up a sweat as they work under her car. It’s hypnotizing and she doesn’t even realize it’s stopped until Chloe’s suddenly right in front of her in her now-grime-streaked tank top and her glistening arms and the streak of dirt across her forehead visible despite the cap.

“Do you want the good news first, or the bad news?”

“I...what?”

“Good news and bad news,” Chloe repeats with a smile. “Which do you want?”

“Um, bad.”

“End on a high note. I like the way you think.” Chloe winks at her. _Again._ “Bad news, it’s your oil pump and they aren’t cheap to replace. We basically have to take apart your engine to get to it.”

Beca swallows hard. Her bank account was already dry thanks to the expenses that came with securing an apartment. “And the good news?”

“The good news is that you didn’t do too much damage to your engine and that we have the part in stock. You’ll be back on the road in a few hours.”

“A few hours?!” she spits reflexively.

“Well, we do have to tear apart your engine to fix it.”

Beca sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “And how much is this costing me?”

She sees Chloe grimace as she says it. “$850.”

“Yikes,” she breathes and drops her hand back to her lap in defeat. She sees Chloe shift and thinks she’s about to leave when instead she giggles. “What?”

“It’s just, you have a little…” Instead of finishing the sentence, she reaches out and brushes her thumb along the edge of Beca’s lip. She shows her when she’s finished, the white powder that had been clinging to Beca’s skin. And she draws her thumb to her mouth and sucks on it with another wink.

Beca feels her entire body flush with heat and she’s pretty sure the sweat she’s sweating now is pure nerves and not from the heat of the day. More like the heat of Chloe’s eyes on her.

“So, do you wanna do it?”

Beca looks up sharply from where she didn’t quite realize she was staring - right at Chloe’s chest. “What?”

“Do you want us to fix it?”

“Yeah, yes. I guess. I have to do it or I can’t leave, so.”

“Would that be so bad?” Chloe’s out the door and back under her car before Beca can even react to the suggestiveness.

* * *

She watches Chloe and her brother (not that she’s watching her brother for even one second) work on her car for an hour before she gives in and stands to cross the tiny waiting room and open the connecting door. “Hey, guys?”

Chloe extracts herself from whatever she was doing and looks her way. “What’s up?”

She holds up her phone. “Um, do you have WiFi here? I have zero service and I need to email my new boss and tell him I’m going to be late.”

“Oh, totes, sorry! I should have told you. It’s the only network that will come up. Password is just Beale - B-E-A-L-E.”

“Probably could have guessed that,” she says with a nod and retreats to connect and send the email that will make for a terrible first impression.

* * *

Once Beca’s exhausted her phone’s battery, she doesn’t have much choice but to watch Chloe work on it. She knows she should feel bad for objectifying her so much, but she’s just so _hot_ and the way she’s bending over - because now Beca’s car’s back on the ground and Chloe’s bent over the engine - Beca really has no choice but to stare right down the cleavage on display thanks to the ever-dirtying tank top.

Nor does she have much choice when Chloe circles the car and bends over again, this time her back to Beca.

Beca watches her work for more than two hours and in those two hours manages to fantasize a half-dozen varied scenarios involving striding right out into the garage and fucking Chloe against, on, or in her car. Or maybe on top of that big barrel of whatever in the corner. It’s getting to be a problem and she crosses her legs tightly to stave off the throbbing her mind and Chloe’s body have generated. She throws a glance toward the bathroom and considers relieving her tension. She’s almost convinced herself to do it when she sees Chloe walking toward the door, the hood of her car now in place.

“So, who’s the lucky guy?”

Beca blinks at her. If she was sweaty and dirty before, Beca can’t even begin to describe what she is now. There are smudges on her cheeks and nose and neck, and across her chest is the perfect imprint of something mechanical-looking that she must have pressed herself against when she was reaching and straining and - “Wh-what?”

“Your new boss. You’re starting a new job tomorrow, right?”

“Uh, yeah.”

Chloe narrows her eyes at her and she feels heavily scrutinized. “I bet you’re on your way to LA.”

“What makes you think that?”

“The papers on the floor of your car all have stuff about LA on them, so I figured.”

“Going through the stuff in my car is part of fixing my oil pump?”

“No.” Chloe smiles at her. “But it was out in plain sight and I have eyes. Couldn’t help but be curious about you.”

Beca swallows the lump in her throat. “Oh?”

Chloe hums. “I can show you some car care basics if you want before I check you out.”

Beca has to swallow again. “Yeah, okay. Cool.”

“Yay! Follow me.”

Beca follows Chloe through the door onto the floor of the garage and watches Chloe pop her hood again, so she waits by the front bumper until Chloe starts walking her through things she knows she _should_ know but never took the time to learn, like how to check her oil and where to refill the windshield washer fluid and what the proper air pressure in her tires should be, but all Beca can think about is how badly she wants to get under _Chloe’s_ hood.

“So, whatcha think?”

Beca realizes she’s staring and quickly looks back at her car. “Yeah, cool. I’m an expert now.”

Her lame joke makes Chloe laugh. “Cool. Let’s go back in and I’ll take care of you.”

Beca has to bite her tongue to stop the lewd retort that forms in her gutter brain and turns to head back into the waiting area. She passes the counter but Chloe steps in behind it like she expected her to and starts clicking around on the computer.

“So, Beca Mitchell - your damage today is $729.”

She reaches into her purse and hopes she can find a credit card not maxed out. “I thought you said it was $850? Not that I’m complaining.” She hands over a card.

Chloe winks at her _again_. “I gave you a discount for being such a good customer. Should I run this as credit or debit?”

She smiles and knows she’s blushing. “Credit.”

“Your zip code?”

Beca has to think about it for a second; she just updated her address on everything and she hasn’t quite memorized it. “90048.”

Chloe returns her card. “And I’ll be needing your phone number.”

“You need my number to run my credit card?” she asks dumbly as she tucks it away.

“I need your phone number to text you later and tell you about this really cute girl whose car broke down and needed a tow today.”

Beca blinks hard, unsure if she heard what she thinks she heard. But Chloe’s smiling at her and holding out her own phone open to a blank contact card so, with a nervous smile, Beca takes it and taps in her number. She hopes it’s not too obvious that she’s shaking as she does it.

“Thanks,” Chloe says as she pockets her phone. “I’ll just pull your car out front.”

Beca nods and watches Chloe enter her car and drive it out of the bay to back it into a spot next to the door. She holds the driver’s side door open for her and Beca has to pass painfully close to her to climb into her car. The door closes behind her and before Beca even had her foot on the brake, Chloe’s arms are folded on the open window of the door, bent at a sharp angle to see into Beca’s low car.

“Do you come through here often?”

“I...no, not really. It’s not really a...commute. Portland to LA.”

Beca can tell her answer disappoints Chloe, but she doesn’t know what else to say.

“That’s too bad. Well, you better hit the road if you’re going to make it to your new job on time.”

“Oh, I emailed my boss and explained what happened. I’m going to start on Tuesday instead.”

“So...you don’t have to rush off right this minute?”

Beca watches the disappointment evaporate and the playfulness return. “I...no. No, I guess I don’t.” Chloe’s about to say something but the past hours of absolute longing beat her to the punch. “Do you wanna grab coffee? Or dinner? Or just...go somewhere?”

Chloe lights up. “Definitely. My shift’s almost over. Let me just tell the guys I’m leaving and get my stuff. Give me five?”

She nods and watches Chloe hurry away. She sees her in her side mirror talking to Charlie and then she disappears from sight into a back room.

When she returns, Beca curses to herself again.

Chloe’s shed her coveralls and (somewhat disappointingly) changed into a clean tank top, the grime is gone from her face and chest, and she’s wearing very, very short denim cut-offs. Her hair is down and it’s much longer than Beca expected it to be. She has an oversized purse over her shoulder which she slings onto the floor of Beca’s car before dropping herself into it.

She smiles at Beca and Beca’s not quite sure what to do. “Um, I don’t know where…”

“Just drive,” Chloe says with a smile at her before looking out the windshield. She points. “That way.”

* * *

Beca’s not sure where they’re going - there aren’t any signs that indicate an upcoming town and they haven’t passed anything remotely like civilization since the burger joint and gas station near Chloe’s shop. She doesn’t really care, though, because Chloe has the window down - even though the air conditioning is blasting - and is playing in the wind with her hand as she sings along to “Bad Moon Rising.” She’d commandeered Beca’s radio and it’s the first time in actual history that Beca’s allowed someone else to control the music in her car. It seems to be the same station Chloe put on in the truck, and what was playing in the shop.

“I wouldn’t take you for a classic rock junkie.”

“Mmm, I love it. Totally timeless. And songs really told stories back then.”

She turns to look at Chloe and cocks an eyebrow at her. “So you think modern songs are shallow?”

Chloe shrugs. “They definitely don’t compare to this.”

“Maybe now’s a good time to tell you that new job I’m starting on Tuesday is that of a record producer.”

Chloe’s reaction is so strong that it’s physical. Her whole body jumps. “I’m so sorry! I hope I didn’t - I didn’t mean - I’m sure your music is totes deep and meaningful. I’m sorry.”

Beca thinks about the demo she had to work on to land this job - the terrible, terrible hip-hop song about booties and grits her teeth. “Some...are deeper than others.”

Chloe’s quick to let go of her fear of having offended Beca. “That sounds suggestive, Beca Mitchell.”

Beca feels her cheeks warm and coughs away her instant nerves. “It wasn’t at all, so I guess you’re just a perv.”

“Maybe I am.” Beca can feel her staring at her but refuses to take her eyes off the road. “There’s a turn-off coming up. It’s a gravel road. Take it.”

Beca eases off the accelerator until she sees the unmarked road and spares a thought to the fact that she could be playing chauffeur to the person who’s about to murder her in the middle of nowhere. She turns onto the road and follows it, intent on not thinking of Chloe as a killer and instead about her as the hot, hot woman who’s taking her on an adventure. The road leads them through a light forest of lush evergreens and Beca thinks even if this is how she goes, at least she’s surrounded by beauty.

“It’s just a little farther,” Chloe says when Beca feels like they’ve been driving on this bumpy road for an inordinate amount of time. “Here, it’s coming up. Slow down.”

Beca does as she’s told and rolls to a stop near the edge of what she quickly realizes is a cliff. She’s struck with a zing of fear and throws her car into park and yanks on the emergency brake to make sure they don’t roll off. If Chloe notices her moment of panic, she doesn’t comment on it. Instead, they sit in silence as Chloe turns off the radio.

Beca’s never seen anything like it. She can see for what looks like hundreds of miles. They’re above a huge body of water framed with towering peaks covered in trees and not a single other human is in sight.

“Beca?”

“Hmm?” She turns to Chloe’s inquiry and is floored when Chloe meets her questioning lips with her own.

The kiss is gentle and Chloe pulls back after a few seconds. “Was that okay?”

Beca nods and rips off her sunglasses before reaching for Chloe’s to do the same and toss them both on the dash, then she’s reaching for her to kiss her in earnest.

She’s really not sure how she ended up here. All she was trying to do was relocate to her new life and now she’s making out in her car with the hottest thing she’s ever _seen._

She wouldn’t change it for the world.

She gasps as Chloe’s teeth nip her lip and Chloe seizes the opportunity and suddenly their tongues are moving against each other. Her memory fails to recall any encounter she’s had with someone who kissed her as thoroughly as Chloe. She reaches for the girl, hand sliding into that messy red hair and she feels Chloe do the same.

They’re content that way for a few minutes until Beca feels Chloe’s fingers tighten in her hair until they give a short, sharp tug. It breaks their kiss and Chloe uses the tension to tilt her head back.

Beca barely has time to take a much-needed proper breath before Chloe’s mouth is on her neck. When she finally gets her breath, her exhale comes out as a moan.

It hangs in the air between them for an eternal moment and she’s about to get embarrassed by her lack of control when Chloe echoes it and latches on to a spot of particularly tender flesh at the curve of Beca’s neck. There’s no uncertainty - Beca is going to have a massive bruise there when this ends.

Beca hopes it never ends.

Her hand slides out of Chloe’s hair and down her back, clawing for purchase and finding very little. All she wants is Chloe to be closer. She finally gives her a sharp tug and grunts in frustration.

“What? What’s wrong?” Chloe asks at the interruption. She’s breathless. “Too much?”

Beca shakes her head. “Not enough. I can’t...I can’t touch you. Everything’s in the way.” She shoves at the steering wheel to make her point.

“I’d say let’s get in the back seat, but…”

Beca knows her back seat is packed to the brim with her belongings for the move. She’s never hated her stuff more.

But then she has an idea.

“I can unpack my quilt and we can go outside?”

A smile slowly spreads on Chloe’s flushed face. “Romantic. And a little kinky. I like it.” She pecks Beca’s lips and hops out of the car.

Beca’s not as quick to move; most of her body’s focus is pretty much centralized in one area and that area is definitely not her feet. She finally gets herself out of the car, though, and manages to remember which trash bag contains her bedding and rips it open to pull it out, unfurling it as it goes.

  
She can see Chloe standing in front of the car so casually, like she hadn’t just been all over Beca two minutes ago. She’s just standing there looking out over the cliff and she lifts her arms over her head in a stretch. It’s so casual and comfortable, Beca forgets she only met this woman a few hours ago.

“Got it,” she says to announce her arrival. She watches Chloe turn with excitement and reach to help her with the blanket.

“Oh, this is perfect. You sure it’s okay to put this on the ground?”

“It’s washable.”

“It’s going to need it.”

The way Chloe says it makes Beca lose her grip on the blanket. It crashes to the grassy, pine needle covered ground and Chloe has to finish laying it out on her own because Beca really can’t function anymore.

When their square of paradise is ready, Chloe steps out of her flip-flops and kneels down on it. She reaches her hands out to Beca and that, that Beca can do.

She kicks off her shoes and rushes down and into Chloe’s open arms. They find one another’s lips with ease, as though they’ve kissed a hundred times before. Beca presses herself close now that she can. She wraps an arm around Chloe’s neck and the other around her waist. Then she trades them. Then runs her hands from her neck down her arms to her hands, following them where they’re wrapped around her own body.

She feels Chloe start to lean her back but she holds firm, then pushes forward instead.

“No?” Chloe mumbles against her lips.

“Yes,” she corrects and pushes more firmly until Chloe nods and leans back until Beca’s able to settle her hips between her thighs.

Being on top of Chloe like this makes Beca’s heart pound even harder. She kisses her with every ounce of passion she can muster and then moves her lips to her neck to return the favor of marking her. It makes Chloe whimper and that makes Beca need more sounds to come out of Chloe.

So she inches back, trailing kisses down her neck until she’s kissing down the center of her chest. She can feel Chloe starting to writhe beneath her so she gives an experimental rock of her hips.

The hands that are on her back turn into claws at the motion and Chloe’s mouth falls open.

Only, no sound comes out, and that just won’t do. So Beca tries another approach. She reaches up and slips her fingers under the neckline of Chloe’s tank top. Her skin is warm and she lets her fingers dip a little lower until they catch the edge of Chloe’s bra. The only indication that Chloe’s even aware of what Beca’s doing comes by way of her back arching a little to lift herself closer.

Beca lets her tongue slide lower until it’s in the gentle valley between Chloe’s breasts. She feels a hand leave her back to tangle into her hair again, the other still scratching at her as it works its way under her tee and higher.

“I’ve been thinking about doing this from the second I saw you,” she admits as she pulls down hard on the shirt and bra cup and reaches with her other hand to liberate Chloe’s left breast so she can cover the stiff peak with her lips.

Chloe cries out at that and Beca finally finds an iota of pure satisfaction. She feels fingernails on her scalp and on her back and she sucks until it slips from her mouth with a soft, wet sound.

Chloe’s body seems to give out at the release and collapses back to the ground. Beca hadn’t even realized she was holding herself up.

“You’ve been thinking about this?” Chloe asks, voice rough and low.

Beca shifts her weight and reaches to repeat everything she just did to Chloe’s other breast. “Nonstop,” she says as she dips her head to circle her tongue around the straining nipple.

“God, that’s so hot,” Chloe answers with a groan.

It’s laced with desperation and Beca’s barely making a conscious decision when she drags her right hand down Chloe’s side, her left dedicated to keeping her breast exposed and available to her mouth. Her fingers catch in the pocket of Chloe’s shorts and she follows the denim until she finds the button. She twists it open and tugs on one side to split the zipper to make room for her hand.

She’s about to reach further when her brain finally catches up for a second. “Can I?”

“ _Beca._ ” Chloe says it like she’s being tortured and Beca feels a hand grip her forearm and push her hand down.

“Fuck,” she whispers as she lets her head fall to rest on Chloe’s chest. She hears Chloe’s moan of relief and feels her hips buck. There wasn’t any underwear to move out of the way and Chloe’s slick flesh is beneath her fingers. She just holds her hand there for a minute, fingers pressing and feeling until Chloe’s hips buck again. “Okay,” she says to herself. “Okay.”

Beca sits up a little, her weight on her elbow as she moves her fingers through the wetness. She starts to reach further but the denim isn’t forgiving so she pulls back altogether and sits up on her knees.

The loss makes Chloe gasp and look up at her in confusion but all Beca does is reach to grab the waist of her shorts and pull until Chloe’s kicking them off her ankle. Beca’s about to lay back down when Chloe stops her with a hand to her shoulder.

“You, too?”

Beca doesn’t answer. She just reaches for her own shorts to unbutton them and strip them off; she sheds her underwear with them because they’re already ruined. Hell, they were ruined two hours ago. She makes to lay down but Chloe stops her again, this time sitting up to kiss Beca.

She kisses her hard, and deeply, and Beca can’t stop the groan that it pulls from her throat. She feels Chloe’s hands on her bare thighs and it makes her shiver. They wander higher, then around and over her ass which gets squeezed. Then they slide higher until they’re pushing under Beca’s shirt relentlessly until Beca has no choice but to lift her arms so Chloe can remove it. Her bra goes next and then she’s reaching for Chloe’s to return the favor.

She’s just tossed Chloe’s bra aside when her knees almost give out.

Chloe’s hand is between her legs and she’s not being delicate about it. Her fingers are grinding circles into her clit and Beca has to grab her shoulders for support. She lets her knees slide further apart until she’s sitting on her knees and out of danger of toppling. Her moan is swallowed by Chloe and it’s all she can do to sit there and let this godsend of a woman make love to her.

It’s fucking, really. Beca knows that. But Chloe’s doing it with so much care and affection that it’s also lovemaking. She tries to sear it all into her memory, the way Chloe’s bare and exposed sitting in front of Beca on her quilt. How they’re both sweating. How the only sounds are those of nature around them and what’s coming from their mouths and the rough motion of Chloe’s fingers. Beca can’t help but let her hips rock and tilt against Chloe’s touch.

“So hot,” Chloe repeats and kisses her way down Beca’s neck again, this time not stopping until Beca’s nipple is in her mouth.

Beca curses and grips Chloe’s hair to hold her there. She can feel herself starting to lose control. It’s too easy to do with this woman, she thinks, as she starts to wonder if she’s being too demanding with the way she’s rolling her hips. But then Chloe shifts the tiniest bit and Beca gasps as she feels Chloe slide into her.

“Fuck,” she says with a groan that she has to repeat when Chloe’s other hand picks up where the other left off, rubbing circles into Beca’s nerves as the other presses up and into her.

Beca doesn’t care anymore. She doesn’t care if she’s being demanding or doing anything wrong at all. She’s riding this woman’s hand and getting fucked senseless. She feels like she’s been on the verge of orgasm for so long but it keeps getting pushed higher and further in a silent challenge to make it bigger and better with every passing minute.

She dares to open her eyes for a second and she’s startled that Chloe’s eyes are on her, have been on her, staring at her with so much intensity. She also notices how close they are to one another now, and that all she has to do is drop her hand from Chloe’s shoulder and she can be touching her, too.

So she does.

She sinks her fingers into Chloe before Chloe even notices her intentions. It makes her gasp and lift off the ground in shock before she’s settling down again with a groan and a swivel of her hips that doesn’t stop. Chloe feels amazing around her fingers and Beca never wants it to end.

“Is this what you thought about?” Chloe asks between moans.

Beca’s starting to shut down, shudders starting to zing through her, and she has to struggle to answer, “Wasn’t...wasn’t this...fuck...this good. _Fuck!”_

She feels it then, the heat ready to explode and flood her body, and it’s aided by Chloe starting to moan and whine and whimper and fall out of rhythm with her hips and her hands.

Beca’s only vaguely aware of how loud she’s being, but there’s something liberating about being in the middle of nowhere with no neighbors to overhear and share awkward looks with the next day. She doesn’t care. She doesn’t care about anything in the world except her massive impending orgasm and the woman about to give it to her.

She might have screamed her name. She might have cursed.

Beca really has no idea.

All she knows is the ecstasy flowing through her.

It lasts a blissfully long time, and yet not long enough.

When she opens her eyes she sees nothing but wilderness. She can feel Chloe against her breathing hard. Her forehead is on Beca’s chest and Beca can feel her breaths, can feel the way she’s trembling.

She wonders if she was so taken by her own pleasure if she missed Chloe’s altogether.

But then she feels Chloe still trying to grind herself into Beca’s uncooperative hand and she knows she didn’t.

“Lay down,” she says.

It startles Chloe who looks up at her. She seems bewildered so Beca kisses her soundly.

“Lay down?”

Chloe nods and does as she’s asked. Beca moves with her to not lose the connection she has. Only she doesn’t follow her all the way. She lays down, too, but instead settles with her shoulders under Chloe’s thighs.

“Oh, my God,” Chloe whines as she looks down at Beca, still working her fingers slowly as she kisses her way along Chloe’s thigh. “Please, I’m so close.”

Beca smiles up at her feeling powerful and desired and wholly unworthy as she leans down to run the tip of her tongue along Chloe.

Chloe’s back arches at the contact and another whine leaves her lips. Beca repeats the motion once, twice, then closes her lips around the swollen bundle of nerves to suck and she watches Chloe fall apart.

It’s like fireworks and Beca thinks she hears her cries echo back to them from across the lake.

She slows down to ease Chloe through it and doesn’t stop until Chloe’s pulling away with a hiss.

Beca lets her out of her grasp and rolls out from under her leg to lay on her back, her head at Chloe’s hip, as they catch their breath. She feels Chloe’s hand fumble around until it settles on her head, thumb brushing back and forth across her forehead.

Several minutes pass and Beca feels herself being lulled to sleep by the rustle of the wind in the trees and the birds and Chloe’s touch. She’s almost asleep when she finds the energy to push herself higher until she’s laying next to Chloe and she smiles to herself as Chloe immediately turns and curls herself into Beca, an arm around her waist, a leg over her own, and her face in her neck.

Beca lets herself fall.

* * *

She wakes to the sound of Chloe singing. It’s quiet, almost under her breath, but she’s definitely singing what sounds like the entirety of “Bohemian Rhapsody.” Her fingers are tapping out the beat along Beca’s arm and Beca tightens her hold to let her know she’s awake. She’s not sure at what point their positions reversed, but she’s more than content to hold Chloe and listen to her sing.

“Sit up?” Chloe’s soft voice interrupts itself and Beca feels her starting to move so she lets go and watches Chloe sit up and scoot back until she’s using Beca’s bumper as a backrest. She holds out a hand. “Come watch the sunset with me.”

Beca’s limbs feel like lead but she manages to crawl up and flop over to sit up next to Chloe. She lets her head rest on her shoulder and feels Chloe draw patterns along her lower back. When Beca finally gets her focus to shift past that of the woman next to her, she’s dazzled in another way.

The blue sky is dotted with pink cotton candy clouds. They reflect their soft hues onto the mountains in the distance and the expanse of water below, pinks and yellows as the sun sinks lower in the sky until it disappears behind the mountain range to paint the sky in reds and oranges. The brilliance doesn’t last long; it couldn’t be more than 10 or 15 minutes, but Beca feels like a lifetime is shared in that moment.

When it passes, a chill creeps into the air and it makes Beca shiver and press closer to Chloe.

Chloe hugs her close with her arm and reaches with her other hand to tilt Beca’s chin up to kiss her. “We should get dressed before the mosquitoes come out.”

The last thing Beca wants to do is move and get dressed and leave this utopia, but Chloe’s right, and life does have to resume. So she nods and kisses her before they part and begin gathering up their hastily discarded clothes.

They have a good laugh when Beca finds her bra literally hanging from a tree a few feet away.

They’re both quiet, though, when they get back in Beca’s car. She’s hesitant to start it so she just grips the steering wheel and looks out into the ever-darkening wilderness and listens to the sound of Chloe breathing next to her. When she hears her move, she turns knowingly and meets Chloe halfway. They kiss long and hard and Beca knows if they let it go on for too much longer they’ll have to brave the mosquitoes or deal with the cramped car interior, so she slows it down until they part with a soft touch of lips.

She starts her car then and spends a minute or two getting it turned around in the narrow clearing so she doesn’t have to reverse the entire way, and then they’re bumping their way back toward the highway. Neither of them says anything until Beca’s turning left onto the main road.

“I didn’t expect this.”

Beca looks at Chloe’s profile for a second. Her eyes are downcast and she’s fidgeting with her fingers. “I don’t know exactly what ‘this,’ means, but I can assure you - same.”

“You mean you don’t sleep with your mechanic in the woods all the time?”

Beca’s grateful Chloe’s letting her sense of humor back in; it felt weird and tense without it.

“There’s a first time for everything,” she jokes back. “Not that I’d mind it happening all the time.” It’s as much of a joke as it is sincere and she chooses to see how it lands with Chloe.

She feels a hand on her thigh and fingers stroking the sensitive skin there. “I wouldn’t mind either.”

Beca tightens her grip on the wheel. “Except I’m going to LA.”

“Tonight?” The stroking fingers start wandering higher until they’re tucked into the crease of her thigh.

Beca has to struggle not to squirm. “No, not tonight.”

“Will you spend the night with me?” Chloe’s hand slips down the front of Beca’s shorts so easily it’s like she wasn’t wearing any at all.

She bites her lip to try to stifle a moan so she can answer without sounding totally pathetic. “Okay.”

Lips graze her neck and she has to focus super hard to not swerve on the road. Not that it would matter much - there are no headlights as far as she can see. “My house is a few miles away.”

“You going to keep doing that the whole way?” she asks with a nod toward the hand in her shorts.

“Do you want me to stop?” Chloe asks while speeding up her motion.

Beca shakes her head. “Just don’t make me crash.”

Chloe giggles in her ear and then nips it before she moves back into her seat, though she doesn’t remove her hand. She does slow it down, though, and it helps Beca focus more on driving until Chloe’s directing her through a blink-and-you'll-miss-it town until she’s parking in a driveway.

As soon as she’s cut the engine Chloe’s mouth is on hers. She’s kissing her with such fervor Beca feels like they didn’t have any kind of a release at all and she’s ready to let Chloe take her right there in the car until Chloe pulls her hand away.

It makes Beca groan in disappointment and then moan in pleasure as she watches Chloe suck her fingers into her mouth. She releases them with a _pop_ and then flashes a smile before climbing out of the car.

Beca takes a second to gather herself before getting out and locking her car to follow Chloe up the steps and into her house.

She knows this is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, one that she has to seize and live in right now. One that she’ll never experience again. She has a new life to begin tomorrow.

But as she watches Chloe not bother to finish climbing the stairs to what Beca assumes is her bedroom and instead sit down on the staircase to pull Beca down and into a kiss, Beca thinks that maybe the new life she begins tomorrow could be a lot happier if she can keep Chloe Beale in it.

* * *

“Do you wanna take a road trip?” Beca asks when the morning light has woken them both.

She feels kisses along her chest and fingers tickling her stomach. “Where?”

“Los Angeles.”

She watches Chloe lift her head to look at her with sparkling eyes and a hint of a smile on her lips, and then she melts into Chloe’s kiss.

_**The End** _


End file.
